Stitching
by Xaphrin
Summary: It's more than just mending uniforms and clothes. A short one-shot with Raven and Robin.


**Stitching**

It was a surprisingly feminine thing she did.

Not that Raven was _un_feminine, or that sewing was specifically a female activity. Lots of guys were amazing tailors. But all that aside, it just seemed _odd_ that she did it. He expected the activity out of Starfire, more so because she seemed to be the epitome of everything female, all ribbons and bows and curls, and seeing her as anything other than a feminine female seemed strange. But, in the end, Starfire struggled with the patience and some of the more delicate movements. Raven, however, was content to sit for hours on end in the silence of the laundry room, curled on top of the dryer as she leaned against the window frame.

Robin remembered the first time he had ripped his uniform outside of his old stomping grounds of Gotham City. Back at Wayne Manor, if something was damaged or torn, the ever reliable Alfred Pennyworth would pick up his things and mend them or hem them. And, like magic, they would reappear in Robin's possession the next day, perfect mended. It was so common that he grew used to the pattern, but now that he was a continent away from the comforts of home, he had no idea what to do.

It had happened when the team was still young and inexperienced, and their formations were awkward and inefficient. Robin had moved, thinking he had left enough room to step around Beast Boy as he transformed. He didn't. His foot caught Beast Boy's tyrannosaurus rex tail during a fight, falling head-over-heels across the pavement. He hit the ground with such force, that his seams pulled right out of his uniform. In the end, the team had won the fight, but it had been embarrassing to have to stumble home with half the seams of his shirt pulled apart. It looked like he had tried to Hulk out of it and failed miserably.

He remembered the pain of trying to repair it himself with dismay. He sat on the edge of his bed, glaring at the needle and his bloodied fingertips, patience wearing thin. Spandex was damn near impossible to repair, he decided as he lost his patience halfway through. In the end, his stitches were awkward and uneven. Sure enough, the next time he fought in that particular uniform, the stitches ripped out again.

Raven sighed and watched his hunched, sheepish form return to the tower, clothing hanging from his shoulders in strips. They stared at each other for a long moment before her pale hand slid between the opening in her cloak, palm up as if she was expecting something.

Robin glanced from her hand to her hooded face, trying to figure out what she wanted.

"I can fix it..." Her deep, breathy voice was still such a strange sound to him, and her expressionless eyes made her impossible to read. "_Properly_," she added as an extra jab.

"I don't want to be a bother."

Her eyebrow arched. "I don't want to be a laughing stock to our enemies because you can't mend your own uniform."

Rolling his eyes, he carelessly pulled off his shirt and dropped it into her outstretched hand. Tense silence twisted between them, and he remembered the delicate way her fingers had gripped the cloth, the shock in her eyes, and the blush on her cheeks as she stared at him, shirtless in front of her. He glanced down at his chest and back at her, suddenly realizing what he had done (undress in front of a girl he barely knew), and looked away sheepishly.

"I'll have it back to you tomorrow." And with that, she left.

When it was returned, it was almost as if it were brand new. He could barely tell where the tear had happened. Except for a few, small knots, there was no indication that his uniform had ever been torn. Like magic. So, the next time something was damaged, he dropped it off to her, and the next day, it was returned as if it was new. This pattern continued for the next few years, and Robin had just assumed that she mumbled some spell and "poof" it was repaired.

It wasn't until he walked into the laundry room and he saw her sitting on the dryer, that he realized she did all of the mending by hand. Her small, slender hands holding the fabric as a needle poked between layers of fabric on Beast Boy's uniform, and her eyes focused on tying a knot. She felt his presence and glanced up at him, eyes meeting in the stillness of the room.

"Do you have something for me?"

He stared at her, unable to say anything at all. The way her light hit her hair, the quietness that simply surrounded her, it just felt so serene. And, there was something almost ethereal about her... like a mixture of Arachne and Hestia, mending the clothes and taking care of the home. He just shook his head and backed out of the room quietly, feeling like he had intruded on a private, intimate moment.

It wasn't until she returned another mended uniform to him that he had the courage to ask her about what she did.

"Do you always sew by hand?"

He remembered the ghost of a smile that played on her lips, and the way her eyes met his with something he could only call "a shimmer". "Some things you just can't fix with magic." She placed the folded uniform in his hands and walked away, leaving him to ponder her enigmatic statement.

The next time he knew she was in the laundry room, he pretended to be folding laundry, but secretly watched her out of the corner of his eyes. He couldn't help himself, the more he figured out about her, the more he wanted to learn. Seeing her perfectly comfortably in the silence that surrounded her, just seemed to be another push for him to grow closer to her. There was something about being around her when she was completely at ease that was intoxicating. It was as if she pulled him into her.

"You've folded that shirt three times, Robin." He felt her eyes on him. "Now four. Is there something you need from me?"

He turned around and blushed, shrugging. "No. Not really... I just..."

"It's quiet." Her eyes returned to the hem of Starfire's skirt. "I understand."

Was that it? Was he just so used to the sound and movement of the tower that he needed to be around stillness for a while? He shrugged again, pretending not to understand what she meant. "Are you asking me not to talk?"

"I'm just pointing out that there is a lot of noise outside this room." She pulled the thread taut and started to move the needle again. "Sometimes silence isn't always a bad thing." She shifted again, pushing the excess fabric of her cloak out of the way. Robin couldn't recall a time when she was without it.

"Have you ever sewn something to your cloak before?"

She glanced up and met his eyes with a small, hidden smile. "I am half human, therefore I am half fallible and allowed to make mistakes."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'." He moved to lean next to the window, looking out at the bay. A yacht slid past their window, and he watched as a wedding was taking place on the deck. "So, what do you do when you're in here?"

"I fix our mistakes." Her voice was soft, even in the silence of the room. "I mend our errors. I heal our cuts and scrapes and worn-out fabric. I repair the little things so we can focus on the things that matter." She glanced up at him again. "That's what I do when I'm in here."

Robin stared at her, his shock evident on his face. His mouth tried to form words, but he was so floored by the profoundness of her statement, that he knew there was nothing he could say that would truly express the way he felt about what she said. It was another reminder of why he cared so much about his teammate.

She smiled again, breaking the delicate balance between them. "Just don't ask me to darn Beast Boy's socks. I draw the line there."

Robin couldn't help the smile that peeled across his lips, and he fidgeted with the shirt in his hands. "Am I bothering you?"

"Not at all." There was a slow pause as she snipped stray threads from her handiwork on Starfire's skirt. "I enjoy the company on occasion."

Her eyes met his and there was another long pause between them. Robin felt the air grow thick as she watched him. Something about the way she looked at him made him feel light headed and giddy, like he had too much to drink. He swallowed and returned her stare until she broke it, turning to the next uniform in the pile.

"Besides, sewing usually requires more than just one stitch."

)O(

_I'm not really sure what I had hoped to accomplish with this. I just threw this together this afternoon, so it might not be fully edited. I just needed a break from homework and real work. Ugh._

_I am working on my other pieces too (I promise) but I won't lie, I've been distracted by a few great new works in the fandom (specifically _**Of a Feather**, _by nyxmyx26, which I beta for). So, if ya'll just stopped being such amazing authors I might actually get real work done. _

_Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, let me know what you think!_


End file.
